Ink Black
by Mac Gustah
Summary: BlackOps, it's not just the name of a popular videogame. It means an operation that is not put on record. This way, if the op is found out, the goverment can deny all claims and go on living happily. But when your life is largely classified, it makes losing those who know that much harder. This is the story of Riley Bridger, a 21st century operative as he is given an alternative.
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, this is something I just wrote in an impulse. I have no idea how well it will be received and this is really just so I can see if I should continue this later. I have a rough plan for the next chapter, but it might be a while, you know, with all the exams coming up and stuff.**

 **I know there's like a metric shit-ton of this kind of ME fanfics around, but like in all my stories, I try to keep it as original as possible.**

 **This actually took me quite a while to write, not only because it's the most I've ever written for one chapter, but also because it's 1** **st** **person and I usually do 3** **rd** **.**

 **Alright, enjoy and till next time. Cheers.**

 **P.S. There's quite a lot of swearing, might rate it M later**

* * *

~Chapter 1~

"Tell me corporal, how've you been holding up?"

I just looked at the doctor who was apparently supposed to make me better. Ha, I'd like to see that. "The dreams have gotten less, but they're still there. It's hard to think and even talk about it." I said to the women sitting in the leather chair opposite to me. She the stereotypical psychiatrist; her hair tied back into a ponytail, a fancy suit with a skirt that went to just above her knees, a notepad in her hands which she used to, well… make notes, and a pair of frameless glasses on a relatively makeup-less face. God, she annoyed the hell out of me.

"I understand, you've been through a lot."

I glared at her and she looked surprised at the sudden venom in my voice when I spoke.

"No, no you don't understand. You haven't been through the shit I've been through!" I noticed that I had started yelling as my sentence progressed and forced myself to calm down. To my (rather substantial) annoyance, she had recollected herself and just waited silently for me to finish my ranting.

"You're right, sorry. I can't fathom to understand how you feel right now, but I have dealt with a lot of soldiers like you and I have some experience with this."

I just huffed and relaxed in my chair a little more, but my glare remained in place. If I was going to be forced to go to this soul pincher, I was going to make sure to make her uncomfortable as well.

"I know that you probably don't want to, but it might help to talk about it and think of what exactly happened. Go by it step by step."

"I'd rather not."

"I think you should."

I sighed, she was probably right, even though I wouldn't admit it. "A lot of it is classified."

"Don't worry, I've been given clearance for this." I eyed her wearily, but started talking anyway.

"I should start at the beginning…"

* * *

 **3 months ago,  
NATO operating base, Ukraine,  
1945 hours**

"C'mon, c'mon, push harder." Ronald, our squad medic and resident black guy, said as I bared my teeth as my arm started to hurt from the strain. I pushed harder and as I started to gain ground, I felt the resistance slacking. I made one more push and threw all my strength into it.

My opponents hand hit the table with a loud thump as he finally gave up. "C'mon Lars, pay up." Ronald said to our heavy weapons specialist as he held out his hand. "I won fair and square."

"Fuck you Ronald, you didn't win shit, Riley did." He said as he handed our medic his 10 dollars.

I smiled at my opponent, the ginger-bearded demolitions expert just sent me a dirty look, but didn't hold it long before it turned into wide grin. "Good match, Marc. Thought I would lose for a second there." I said as I grabbed a beer and threw it at him before cracking one open myself.

Marc and I had always been good friends. Ever since we went to boot camp and SpecOps training together the two of us had been close friends. We only split up on missions, when I was on overwatch and he was blowing shit up.

I'm not saying I don't like explosions, but there's just something about aiming those crosshairs over your target, feeling the wind and accounting for bullet drop before taking that last deep breath and squeezing the trigger. The feeling you get when the rifle kicks back and the bullet leaves the barrel, just amazing. Call me sadistic, but hey, I probably am. Who wouldn't after three years of working in a black-ops squad.

It was at that moment that our Sergeant, Michael Durant, a hard-ass fifteen year veteran, slammed the door open and yelled at us to gather our gear before he left to get his own.

"You know what's going on?" I asked my friend as I put on my dark grey vest over my digital urban camo. It was rather light-weight, expected from a sniper, but I certainly wouldn't say no to some more protection. Especially after last mission. Damn Seperatists spotted me, not that it helped those assholes much.

"Hmmm, perhaps he wants to know who of us looks best in our BDU's so he can marry us off to his daughter." He said with sarcasm overflowing from his voice.

"Geez mister sarcasm, you know what I mean."

"Yes I do." He answered with an annoying smug smile on his face.

I rolled my eyes, "Fuck you Marc."

"I'd rather you didn't." He grinned widely, "That would be uncomfortable for the both of us. Not that I have anything against gays, but you're really not my type."

I sighed and opened the door while putting my boonie hat on my head and made my way over to the briefing room together with the rest of the squad.

Sergeant Michael, or Mike as most people called him, was already there with the mission files and a few maps strewn across the table.

"Alright ladies, now that you're finally here, we can start the briefing. I won't beat around the bush with this, we're going to be deep behind enemy lines."

"Aren't we always?" Ronald remarked, causing the rest of us to chuckle. Well, sarge didn't, but he almost never laughs.

"Yes. As I was saying, we will be deep in hostile lands. I don't have to stress the diplomatic repercussions getting found out might have, so I'll just continue to the briefing." He pressed a button on his remote and a picture of a bald man wearing a nice suit getting in what seemed like an expensive car appeared on the screen behind him.

"This is Yuri Maskatov, codename: Omaha, a kingpin Russian arms trader. Intelligence has confirmed that he has been supplying the Ukrainian separatists with high-end weaponry that outmatches what the official government can field themselves. He is also responsible for a number of attacks on civilian transports, it is needless to say that this is the man we'll be taking out."

The picture changed into the map of a city and next to it one of a building.

"He is currently staying in the Treatralniy Hotel in Zhaporizhia. We expect that he has guards carrying M5K's and Makrovs, this won't be easy. We'll be going in quick and quiet, so bring your silencers and flashbangs. Callsigns only from the moment we touch down, so only take your dog-tags with those on them. Now get ready, we leave by Osprey in 30."

We all saluted and went to the armoury to get our guns and ammo.

* * *

 **Osprey oh-six-nine, flying over hostile territory,**  
 **2348 hours**

We stood in a line in the Osprey's troop-bay, waiting for the all-clear signal. I checked Marc's parachute while Lars did the same with mine. Once everyone had checked their oxygen-gear and chutes of the person in front of them, Mike signalled the pilot to open the rear hatch.

As it opened, all I could see was a thick fog behind us, encasing the helicopter/plane hybrid in a dark blue blanket. Carl looked at me, I could almost see the grin behind his mask.

Sarge shouted at us over the loud noise of wind rushing just outside the hatch, "Alright! You know the mission! Kill the target, avoid capture, and get the fuck back out!" he looked at each of us through our protective glasses, "Tell me Hades! How do we go!"

"Like a ghost! Sergeant!" we all shouted back

"Go! Go! Go!"

We all ran down the ramp, into the black of night, forming in a halo shape by interlocking our arms. The feeling of freefalling was incredible. The wind rushing past you, the tumbling feeling in your stomach and seeing the ground come closer without a care in the world.

We disconnected our arms and pulled our cords when we were a little bit further away from each other. We came to a lurching halt and continued to descent slowly. Our target was a small clearing outside the city.

I took a few steps to dampen the fall as I hit the ground and quickly discarded my chute, cutting it off and hiding it in the bushes where the rest did the same. A few seconds later the crate containing our weapons landed. And almost on top of Lars. He was big, probably the tallest and strongest in our squad, but that doesn't really matter if you're hit on the head with a 60 kilo crate.

"Callsigns only boys, move out."

We made our way into the city slowly, being careful to avoid patrolling soldiers and policemen. We tread silently, our boots barely making any sound as four silenced M16A3's and a M429 LMG swept the corners.

"Archer, see that apartment complex? Get up on the roof and start marking guards." He shifted his gaze from me to Marc, "Crow, you remember where the hotel's generator is located?"

"Shouldn't be a problem, sir." Marc answered

"Good, I want you to place some charges on it and then report back to me. Archer will cover you while you infiltrate the building."

"Fine by me, Sarge."

"Alright, move out."

I obeyed his orders and made my way to the apartment building. It took me some time to find a way up, but after a while I found an old maintenance ladder that went all the way up. I slung my assault rifle on my back, right next to where my sniper rifle was.

I quickly ascended the dinky ladder and looked around the roof before stepping off and crouch-walked to the edge while grabbing my GOL sniper magnum. From there I could see the hotel clearly. I could also see more than a dozen guards, all armed with M5K's.

I quickly contacted the rest of Hades through our secure channel, "Sir, there's more hostiles than accounted for. At least a dozen s'far as I can see. Probably more inside."

" _Noted, Archer, mark them and guide Crow to the maintenance entrance."_ He cut the connection and I contacted Marc.

"Crow, where are you?"

" _Second street to your west."_

I looked through my thermal scope at his direction, "I see you, coast is clear. Move to the next cover."

"Wait, hold position, hostile moving towards you." I waited until he was out of sight from the rest of his friends and squeezed the trigger, hitting the guard right in the centre of mass. I almost never went for the head on purpose, it was a little too messy for my taste, I like to keep my kills clean.

"Got'm, move up."

" _I can see the door."_

"There's one with his back turned towards you guarding the alley, I can't shoot him without attracting attention, but you should be able to take him out stealthily."

" _Affirmative"_

I followed his movement with my scope as he sneaked up on the unsuspecting guard an smiled when my friend put his hand over the guard's mouth and silently stabbed him in the neck. He dragged the body back into the alley and took position in front of the door.

You may ask: "Why didn't he shoot him? He had a silencer, right?"

Well, newsflash; silencers don't mute the sound of a gun, it'll muffle it and from distance you probably wouldn't hear it, but in these cases putting your knife in your enemy's neck is the more silent option.

Marc quietly opened the door and shot three bullets into an unsuspecting guard before dragging him into a dark corner. He went inside and I couldn't see him anymore, but I kept listening to his updates.

" _Hallway's clear, moving towards the generator room."_

" _Hostile down, moving up."_

" _Uh… Sarge?"_

He immediately got a reaction, _"What is it Crow?"_

" _All the signs are in Russian, I don't know which door leads to the generator."_

I heard the ruffling of papers as Lars grabbed the hotel's blueprints. _"It's down the stairs, then left. Third door to the right."_

" _Alright, thanks Blue."_ a minute passed, _"I'm in the generator room, setting charges."_

I took off my hat and ran my hand through my short hair. This mission was a lot more stressful with my best friend's life on the line.

" _Charges set, retuning now."_

I watched as a minute later Marc came out of the building and try to make his way back to the rest of the squad the same way he came in.

He failed to notice the guard that had come to see why his buddy hadn't reported in yet. I could hear the fucker shouting when he saw my ginger-bearded friend. I quickly put an end to that with a bullet that went straight through his neck.

I wasn't fast enough though, the other guards had already raised the alarm and I saw three of them running towards Marc's position.

" _Weapons free, Archer, keep Crow safe."_ Came the order I was waiting for, and within four seconds, three guards were dead.

" _Crow, blow the charges. Doc and I will meet you there. Blue, head for the parking lot and keep them from getting away."_

" _Affirmative."_ Was Lars' short answer.

I saw another one poking his head out of cover. He fell to the ground a second later, the wall behind him splattered red and he now fancied a third eye on his forehead. I heard my team talking over the comm but ignored it, if they said something important, I would notice it.

Another guard fell to the ground, clutching his leg. He was out in the open, but I didn't kill him, no, I had a better idea. "And there he is…" I muttered quietly to myself, shooting the guy that was trying to get his friend behind cover and then quickly ending the wounded one's life. Yes, yes, I'm a sadistic cunt, I know.

The dumb fucks had finally realised there was a sniper somewhere, but too bad for them and great for me, the darkness of the night made it near impossible to spot me while they came up as bright red shapes in my thermal scope.

Apparently Lady Fate really didn't like me that day as I saw one of them pointing at me. He also didn't last very long, but once again I wasn't fast enough and several of them started peppering my position.

" _Archer, Omaha is eliminated. What's your situation?"_

"They know where I'm at, I'm gonna change positions."

" _Don't. Meet us at the rendezvous point, we'll split up into two teams and make our way to the evac separately. Uphold radio silence until then"_

"'Kay, packin' up now sarge."

I slung my GOL on my back and climbed down the sorry excuse for a ladder. The thing groaned under my weight and I had the idea it could break any moment.

My worries were unfounded though, as I made it all the way down and continued to the rendezvous.

I had been waiting at the RV-point for ten minutes, and there was still no sign of them. I was starting to get worried until –finally- the rest showed up. All except Blue. _Why do they look so_ _grim?_ I thought.

"Blue's dead. We couldn't get him out." That was painful. Not only to me, but to the entire squad. He was a good friend and would always cheer us up. I felt especially sorry for Ronald, he and Lars had been like brothers, practically as close as two men could be without being gay. Not that I have anything against gays, of course.

After a few short seconds of silent mourning we left in two teams, I with Crow, and Sarge with Doc.

* * *

 **Present**

"You can stop if you don't want to talk about it anymore, but it might be best if you do." the women said when she noticed I had stopped talking and was staring into nothing.

"They all died. Every single one. They were my family and they died. Doc and Sarge were ambushed. They held out for a while, but we couldn't get there fast enough to save them. Marc was shot in the chest before our evac arrived. It pierced his lung. There was nothing I could do. _Nothing_ I could do to save my friend's- no, my _brother's_ life. He died on the Osprey, coughing up blood. Why are they dead and not me? Why did I have the right to live? If anything I should be dead too, not here telling my fucking life-story to a fucking women I've known for a grand total of two fucking hours. I have _no one_ left."

I noticed my vision getting blurry with tears. "You know what the best part is? Marc asked me to do _one thing_ before he died. He asked me to tell his girlfriend to bring the news. You know what happened?" she shook her head once more.

"I went over to their house, even got my dress uniform out of the closet for the first time in two years. I had always thought of his girlfriend as a really kind women, even saw her as sort of a sister. So I knocked on the door, letter in my hands. She didn't open, so I knocked again, and again, and again, but no one opened. I knew she was home, all the lights were on and her car was on the driveway, so I walked around to the back to see if she might be in the garden, reading a book or listening to music or somethin' else that might cause her not to hear me knocking on the door."

 **Two weeks ago**

I opened the fence gate leading to the back yard, this place brought up too many memories, luckily they were all good.

I felt bad for Sarah, they always seemed so happy together, and now Marc was dead. He'd told me he wanted to ask her to marry him when he got back. He was planning the whole thing weeks in advance. I smiled wryly at the memory of him stressing over all kinds of things that were –if you ask me- rather irrelevant. But then again, I had always been a rather straightforward guy.

I exited the overgrown tunnel of leaves and stopped dead in my tracks. Sarah was there, and so was someone else. I didn't recognise him, that would be kind of hard with them seemingly trying to each other's face off.

I gritted my teeth, "Saar, this better not be what it looks like." I said and she turned around, eyes wide.

"Riley… wh-what are you doing here?"

The man seemed surprised, "Who are you?"

"I could ask the same thing from you. Why are you kissing my best friend's girlfriend?" I snapped at him.

"Dude, what are you talking about! Hey, back off! What are you doing?!" he shut up when I shattered his nose.

"Riley, what the hell?!"

"You know, I thought we might grieve together, but it seems you'll get over your _boyfriend's_ death quite easily." Tears started to spring in her eyes,

"Riles, what are you talking about?" she asked with a quivereing voice, using the nickname only she and Marc were allowed to use.

"Marc is KIA, I came to bring the news, but I'll take my leave now." I said as I threw her the letter and turned around. I could hear her crying in the background, but I didn't turn around.

* * *

 **Present**

I looked at the therapist again and she started to say something, but I cut in, "I would like to go home now."

She nodded understandingly, "Of course. I'll see you next week?"

I just grunted in approval and opened the door. It was dark outside, I must've been in there longer than I though.

The streets were crowded, even at this time, I checked my watch, 22:36. A guy walked up to me with a stack of flyers, but the glare I sent him quickly made him back away. I never liked the city, too much noise, too many people, and not enough fresh air. There's a reason I became a sniper. I like my conversations from a mile away, through my scope. At least Marc would make sure I communicated with people when we were on leave instead of me punching them.

"Aww… don't be so depressed dude, cheer up." A voice with a slight southern accent sounded behind me. I snapped my head around and stood stunned. Marc was standing there. Wearing the hoodie he usually wore when on leave and with a big shit-eating grin on his face. I couldn't help but smile.

But then the truth hit me like a bus at full speed. He wasn't real. I was at his fucking burial three days ago! "Go away, you're not real." Some people looked at me strange. I don't get why… Oh yeah, I was talking to someone that wasn't there.

"That ain't nice to say. I'm here aren't I? Why would I be fake?"

"Just shut up!" I shouted at nothing and turned around. I continued walking down the road that lead to the peer. Some fresh air would help, I decided.

"Hey! Dude, did I do something wrong? Riles, stop walking away from me!"

I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to scream at him- _it_. I started running, barely restraining myself from drawing a gun in public and shooting the hallucination of my best friend.

I reached the pier and breathed in the fresh, salt sea air. _Breathe in, breathe out, in, out._ Oh god, I was going crazy. A thought came to mind. Did I have anything left to live for? No, I didn't. I didn't have any family left, my friends were all dead, damn, even my fucking dog died.

I had nothing and I was ready to jump off the pier. My body would go in shock as soon as it hit the ice-cold water and I could drown in peace. Yeah, that seemed like a good idea, but before I could do anything a man came to stand beside me by the railing.

He was wearing a black suit with a blue tie. I looked at his features, but as soon as I looked away I forgot them again. "Sooo… whacha doin' here?"

"Seeing how high this pier is." I answered truthfully.

"Why?" he asked.

"I'm really considering jumping."

"Really? That doesn't sound very healthy." No shit.

"Yeah, that's the point." Why was I talking so easily to him? I never did acted like this to a stranger, but something about him just made me want to talk to him.

"You want to die?"

"Dunno, s'not like there's anything left here for me."

"I could give you an alternative." Wait, what?

"Wait, what?"

"I could give you an alternative, a new start. Or let's say a continuation in a different universe."

"Sir, I think you should sit down, you're not making sense."

His eyes suddenly flashed orange. _What the flying shitbucket! That ain't normal!_ I took a step back. "You don't believe me?"

"No, but hell, there's nothing left for me here anyway. What do I have to do?"

"That's the most beautiful part of it! Absolutely nothing."

"Anything I need to take with me?"

"No, everything will be taken care of. Now, goodnight." He said and my vision turned to black.

* * *

 **That's it, I hope ya liked it. Please don't complain about technical shiz if it comes to the military stuff, this is FICTION. Thank you, for reading and it would be really helpful if you reviewed. It'll help me improve my writing.**

 **I might also be a little rusty on my knowlage of ME1, so correct me if I'm wrong in that aspect.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, ladies and gentlemen, but probably mostly gentlemen. I am excited to present to you the new chapter of Ink Black. This chapter is mostly exposition and me trying to lighten the mood a bit. Normally Riley wouldn't talk as easily to new people, but you should understand that he is talking to a very special person who it is very easy to talk to. The next chapters will most likely be a bit darker, but I was in a good mood the most times I was writing this.**

 **Please understand that this story is currently not being beta-ed so I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling mistakes I make. Also please review and give me your input and please if you liked it or not and why.**

 **Thank you to the people who reviewed, favorited and followed, each review is important to me.**

 **IMPOTANT (somewhat): I have changed Riley's callsign to Archer, since I read a fanfic in which the nickname Jinx was given to the protagonist and I don't want to seem like I'm stealing ideas. That is all.**

* * *

~Chapter 2~

"Who- What the fuck are you? Where am I?" I asked, while staring at the strange man in front of me. It was still the same guy that I met on the docks, suit and everything. But he wasn't wearing shoes. Why wasn't he wearing shoes?

"To answer your first question; I am a multidimensional being. I am the one charged with protecting all the Mass Effect universes, but I like to take trips to others as well. The Star Wars universe is really beautiful this time of the year. Well, if you overlook the Clone Wars that's going on right now. Anyhow, you mortals usually see me as a god. The answer to your second question is… No, you know what? Look around and tell me what you see."

I looked at my surroundings, taking in all the details and trying to form a conclusion. There were trees, big, grey, leafless trees. The grass in the small clearing we were standing on was dull brown, dead. It felt... off. There wasn't any sound of animals, no wind. It felt dead. "Eh, a dead forest I guess?"

"Yes and no. As of now you are in the Void, the empty space between universes, but what you _see_ is the physical representation of your mind. The trees are tall and strong, but they are dead. The grass was once green and the sky was once sunny, but events in your past influenced them, killed them. This place was once strong, alive, but now it is but a husk of a once strong willed and bodied man. You, my friend, are broken in the worst way possible. That is why I chose you, because there is nothing holding you down to take this opportunity to start your new life. To rekindle life in this forest. That, and you are not afraid to do what is necessary. You have seen the worst of mankind and you have done equally bad things." He picked up a withered flower. "Yet there is still love in this mind. The brotherly love for Sarah, even though she wronged you, the love for your former squad." He started walking down a forest path and I followed him, not really sure what else to do.

We walked in silence until we arrived at another clearing, this one was a bit larger and the center was dominated by a large rock. I left the self-proclaimed deity behind me as I slowly walked towards it.

Engraved on it were five symbols arranged around a sixth in the center. I recognized the middle one as the silhouette of a Corinthian helmet, the symbol of Hades Squad. The one above it was a crow in flight, for Marc. The next one was a rose, for Sarah. Another one were Sergeant stipes, for Mike. The one below that were three horizontal bullets, for Lars. Next to that was a medical cross, for Ronald. The last one was a vertical crossbow… for me.

That was who we were: Crow, Sarah, Sarge, Blue, Doc, and me, Archer. We were Hades, and although Sarah wasn't part of Hades the squad, she was part of Hades the family. A highly dysfunctional family of trained killers and one innocent woman, sought after for almost twenty assassinations, the dismantlement of two major terrorist operations and the abduction of Justin Bieber and three dictators. All in three years. All around the world.

"As you see, everything has a place in the mind. Now follow me, I have to show you some presents you may like." The deity said and walked up another path, eventually leading to some sort of hut. It seemed like the place a witch from a fairytale would have taken residence in. A low, overgrown, thatch roof, an unstable looking chimney and a rotten wooden front door. He must've seen my look of confusion, because the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Not everything is what it looks like, Mister Bridger."

He opened the door and I followed him inside. Where I expected to be some old dusty furniture and perhaps an old woman stirring in a large cooking pot, there was a pristine white hall, way too big to fit into the cabin. The walls were covered in weaponry. Some seemed so alien that they had to be from other universes, while some looked like they belonged in the dark ages. Some of it though, was recognizable. I saw a sections with weapons from my era, weapons from Star Wars and an entire wall dedicated to weaponry from Halo. I immediately made my way over to that wall. There on that wall hung one of my favorite fictional weapons ever; the SRS 99-S5 Anti-Matériel. That baby was almost as long as I was, only shorter by 20 centimeters. It fired 14.5x114mm rounds at a speed of 1530 meters per _second_ , able to penetrate high-density armor in a single shot. The knockback on this thing was so strong that even with the shock dampeners in the stock a normal man would need to either be prone or crouching to fire it properly.

I took it off the wall and held it in my arms. It felt almost natural, me being a sniper and all. I put it back after admiring it for a couple minutes, moving on to the next weapon that caught my attention. The DC-17m interchangeable weapons system, the weapon Republic Commandoes used. I looked it over and quickly put it back. It was nice, but not my style. That was when I spotted another wall and ran at it like an exited puppy.

"I see you are enjoying yourself." The interdimensional being interrupted with a smile. "You can take a better look at those later. I have someone that would like to meet you, and I bet you'll be overjoyed to see who it is. Or rather what it is." I looked at the giant glowing sword longingly, but once again followed him as he stepped through a door that I was sure wasn't there before.

On the other side of said door was a circular, pristine, and you guessed it, white room. The only noticeable thing about it was the elevated platform in the middle with a set of stairs leading to it. On the platform was a pedestal with a sort of round, silver ball with a lens in the middle held in place by a blue field on top of it.

I shot a hesitant look at the shoeless god, who smiled warmly and just motioned for me to step forward toward the strange object held above the -no surprise there- white pedestal. Slowly I ascended the steps, a strange sense of foreboding dominated my thoughts. _This is something important._ My subconscious kept telling me, and I was inclined to believe it.

Finally I reached the pedestal where the silver… I stopped dead in my tracks as I realized what it was. Hovering in front of me was an actual, real life Monitor. It looked exactly like 343 Guilty Spark, the containment field reflecting blue off its shining hull. The only difference was that the lens glowed a dull orange color, interrupting the serine blue shine.

There was a holographic control board hovering a few centimeters from the pedestal, asking for verification of a user. I hesitantly moved my hand toward the panel, not trusting myself to not break something and I shot one last glance at the self-proclaimed deity, but he was still smiling warmly, urging me to proceed. So, with doubts still on my mind I pressed my hand on the –surprisingly- solid board, the hologram immediately taking the shape of a human hand and a feminine sounding voice spoke up. _"User identified. Welcome, Corporal Riley Bridger. To release the current object from containment, please enter the correct password."_

 _Password? I don't know the password. What the hell?_ "Hey, God guy, you know what the password is?" I said as I turned around, only to find out he was standing right behind me. _Alriiiiight, that was not creepy at all._

"12345" the deity answered, causing me to mentally facepalm. _Was this guy for real? That's like passwords 101:_ Don't _use 12345!_ Thinking that he was probably joking I entered the almost-too-stupid password and sure enough; the robotic feminine voice spoke again, _"Password correct, access granted. Releasing object from containment."_

 _Oh well, he's an inter dimensional being, he doesn't need to make sense._ I thought as the blue field disappeared, leaving a hovering monitor staring directly at me. It's eye suddenly lit up and seemed to pierce straight through my soul.

"Oh my, an actual Reclaimer…" it said as it scanned me. I just stared at it in disbelief "Oh, excuse me, where are my manners. I am 333 Silent Traveler, it is my pleasure to finally meet my new travel companion! I would almost do a backflip in joy! Of course, such simple tricks would be degrading and therefore I won't do them, but still, figuratively I did."

I raised an eyebrow at the orange glowing super AI in front of me. It or he or whatever was now darting around his new environment. "How exiting! So, where will we be going, reclaimer? I hope it is something a bit more technologically advanced than last time. Don't misunderstand me, those big flying reptiles you reclaimers call dragons are fun to be around, but I would like to finally be able to interface with something again."

It said, it's happiness just vibrated off him. Oh god, I almost had to puke, he was so happy. Luckily the deity spoke for me: "You will be going to the Mass Effect universe. I think you will like it, Silent Traveler." You know, for its name, it sure did talk a lot.

"Ah, of course! They have the Cuttlefish problem don't they?" My other eyebrow joined the one already raised. _Cuttlefish problem? What the hell does he- Oh yeah, didn't Marc say something about sentient spaceships that looked like cuttlefish?_

The deity answered 333's question. You know what? I'm just gonna call him threes. "Yes, the Reapers. Loki and Hermes put those in as a prank, but even they don't know how to get rid of the stupid things. I've tried restarting the universe three times already and they're still there. Every person I send in there to help Shepard has defeated them in one way or the other, but they're still there, in all 27.3 of the different 'verses. I knew I should have locked my part of the void."

My eyebrows shot up even more. What the fuck was going on? Threes wasn't any help, he was just nodding slowly.

"Soooooo…" I started, "I really don't care about that, can I get my weapons or what?"

"Yes, yes. Go knock yourself out. But nothing from the magic wall."

 _Finally!_ I thought to myself. _Time to get some guns!_

I immediately found myself grabbing the SRS, slinging it on my back and continuing to the next part for a handgun. I found one quickly on a wall that read [Destiny]. I think that's a game. I grabbed a silver revolver type gun from the rack and inspected it before looking at the nameplate. The Silvered Maverick MK. 41 handcannon. Oh yes, yes yes yes. Not handgun, a fucking hand _cannon_.

I took two.

I moved on to find an assault rifle and eventually went for the HF Gruber, a futuristic piece of equipment that looked as deadly as the description said it was. And it could be adapted to work with Mass Effect's technology. Which meant almost unlimited ammo. Fuck yeah.

Now the only thing left to grab was a Kevlar vest and some frags and I would be all fine and dandy and ready to kick some ass.

"No you're not." _Jesus fucking Christ on a unicycle!_ I turned around, startled by the deity's sudden appearance. He was standing there, all smug looking in his fancy suit and with threes hanging over his shoulder.

"And why not?" I inquired.

"You don't have any armor. You should understand that it is quite important in my universe. Also you haven't been briefed yet."

"Alright, alright, just give me the armor and let's get this over with." I said impatiently. I was really starting to feel the urge to shoot someone by now.

The Interdimensional being pushed a button on the wall the I was sure wasn't there before… again, and a piece of the wall retracted, exposing a menacing looking set of black armor. I recognized it immediately. The ODST battle armor stood there in all its glory, light reflecting off its sliver visor. _Hmm, I'll have to do something about that. Can't have someone spot me because of it._

"I thought you might like it," he said with a chuckle, probably noticing the eager look on my face, ",since you like the Librerian's 'verse so much. Come, stand at the console, I can imagine you'd want to make some modifications to it."

I did just that and was met by a whole list of things I could change. _Alright, first the visor._ It immediately turned from silver to a dull tone of black. _Next is the camo. Hmmm… let's see, mottled or digital camo. Digital urban it is._ Just like the visor the rest changed immediately into a plethora of blocky shapes with various tints of grey. _The undersuit stays black. Next after that is miscellaneous. Let's see…_ It was obvious, I chose to paint a white Corinthian helmet on both pauldrons and the top right of my chest plate. _Hades Squad might be dead, but I can still honor their memory._ I pressed [Finish] and the armor teleported directly onto my body, leaving the clothes I was wearing –bar my underwear- neatly stacked on the ground next to me and my weapons were suddenly attached to the magnetic plates on my armor.

"Alright, now you're done with that, we can get to the briefing." I nodded and followed him to another room that wasn't there before.

"Now, first things first: you'll be dropped in just before the raid of Mindoir in 2170. There you'll meet the Shepard family. The planet will be raided by Batarian slavers a day after you arrive, your primary concern is keeping Shepard alive, no matter the cost. Once she is in good hands you can go and help the marines that will be sent there to free the planet. Or not, it's your choice. Do realize that the Batarians will eventually start using slaves with control-chips implanted into their heads and the ones that don't will have bomb collars, but Silent Traveler should be able to disable those very easily."

"Good. And what happens after that?" I asked, a bit disgusted that a space faring race would use the population against their own troops.

"Nazara won't show up until 2183, until then you can do whatever the hell you want as long as Shepard survives. I have already manipulated the 'verse a bit so that you won't be out of place and I have also set up a small reputation for you as an assassin only known as Hades. You'll be given an omni-tool and a bank account with enough savings so that you can survive until you can set up your own source of income. I don't really give a fuck how you get it, but try not to draw too much attention from the governments."

"Okay, I can find myself in that arrangement. Anything else?"

"Yes, one last thing; your ship. I have plucked a Firespray-31 from the Star Wars Universe, you know, the ship Boba Fett flies in, and modified it with Mass Effect technology. It should be very easy to operate, you'll learn to fly it like an ace in a week. The Force twins were _not_ happy when they noticed one of their prize possessions was gone. That should be it. Good luck, Riley Bridger, don't fuck this one up. Oh, and I do not wear shoes because this way my feet fell more free."

A flash of light enveloped me and I felt weightless for a second before I blacked out again.

* * *

I slowly blinked. I saw some leaves waving gently in a breeze I couldn't feel before I remembered I was wearing full body armor. As what felt like the past three hours slowly came back to me the HUD, or Heads Up Display suddenly turned on and started showing my vitals, shields and apparently an ammo counter.

I turned around and Threes was hovering there, right in my face, "Gah!" I shouted at the sudden orange glowing lens pressed in my face… well, visor really.

"Hello, reclaimer. I thought it might be good to give you a little rundown on your armor, if that is acceptable to you?"

I nodded slowly, "Suuuuure," I drawled, ", tell me, lightbulb. And where's my ship?"

"Good, your armor is outfitted with medium strength MK III kinetic barriers. It should give you enough protection to survive in a firefight for a little while. The undersuit is vacuum rated, so going out in space shouldn't be a problem, unless you're not wearing your helmet of course."

Did Threes just make a joke? I wanted to ask for confirmation, but it, he, whatever continued talking.

"The plates themselves are a titanium-ceramic alloy. You also have an exoskeleton to help carry the weight of both your weapons and the suit itself. Further applications include an Omni-tool adapter in your bracer and an active cloak. Your ship is right behind me."

He was bullshitting me, right? There was no ship there, only a clearing in the otherwise forested area. _Wait, didn't he/it say active cloa-_ Just as I thought that a black and red ship shimmered into view, filling up what only seconds ago was empty. _I really should stop being surprised about stuff, shouldn't I?_

I took a good look at the ship. It was exactly what the _Slave-1_ from Star Wars looked like, but black and red instead of green and brown. _Awesome. Now that is taken care of, what to do next? The guy said to find the "Shepards"_ _whoever they are._

"Hey, Threes, can you like, put a waypoint up for me to the Shepard residence?" I asked.

"Of course, reclaimer." An arrow appeared on my HUD, showing me the direction I needed to go, "I would suggest you take the transportation bike inside the ship. It would reduce travel-time by approximately five hours."

 _You know, why the fuck not. It's better than walking, anyways._ So, with that thought in mind I step up the ramp of the ship to find some sort of boxy thing clasped to the wall. Threes flew up to it and a second later it unfolded into a hovering bike-ish –yes, that is a word now- thing.

I looked at it with a skeptical gave as the clamps holding it on the wall released, leaving the speeder hovering in place. "So… does this thing drive like a regular bike?" I asked the floating lightbulb.

"Basically, yes. Only a lot faster. Now go, I will watch the ship and stay in contact with you through your helmet."

"'Kay." I answered as I mounted the speeder bike and started the engine. _This should be fun._

* * *

 **Please understand that this story is currently not being beta-ed so I'm sorry for any grammatical or spelling mistakes I make. Also please review and give me your input and please if you liked it or not and why.**

 **I'm very sorry for the lack of action and the slow update, but the idea I had for this was a bit harder to turn into words than I thought, I even had to rewrite it once. Because of the time it took, however, I was able to really put some thought into how I want to progress with Ink Black and I scrapped future plans, thought of different ones and then changed them again.**

 **Next chapter will be bit more action as the Batarians will be making an appearance and we will meet the Shepards.**

 **Thank you for reading and have a great day/night.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Guess who's back! It is I, Mac Gustah! Don't worry, people, after a long time, I am finally done with my finals, so I can start writing again. Honestly, I had a chapter about half done before I got drowned in schoolwork, but it was complete and utter shit, so I deleted it and started again.**

 **Someone told me the combat felt rushed, something to which I agree. therefore I am posting this chapter again, with the hopes of having somewhat fixed the problem.**

 **I hope you like it, my dear readers!**

* * *

~Chapter 3~

Damn this thing was fast. I mean, I've ridden some pretty fast bikes, but this thing really blew them all away. The fact that it was hovering about half a meter off the ground probably helped with that.

I looked at the waypoint displayed on my HUD. _Only five clicks out._ I decided to read up on the file about the Shepard family Threes had just sent me, realising something that I hadn't thought of yet.

"Hey, Threes, I see a flaw in our boss' plan…" I spoke into the direct channel to my AI companion.

" _What might that be, reclaimer? It seems, how do your people say it? Water evidence?"_ The monitor answered, a slight tone of curiosity in its voice.

"It's water proof, and, well… I'm not very good at talking to people, and from the report you just sent me, Mrs. And Mr. Shepard are both former Alliance military. Quite high ranked, even. The chance that they believe me is a lot smaller than the chance that they'll shoot me in the face. You gotta agree I do not look very friendly." I thought back at the hologram showing me in my intimidating dark-grey camouflaged armour.

" _Do not fret, reclaimer, I have run 38,785 simulations of your encounter. The chance that the situation will turn hostile is 73.6%. I deemed this a little high, so I have taken the freedom to look through Alliance databases and forged you a flawless – if I say so myself – document from Alliance Intelligence, detailing your reason to be there and the required clearance."_ The AI said with an annoyingly confident voice.

"And what exactly is my reason to… visit them? I don't think that someone from what is essentially the CIA in space would be seen as very trustworthy."

Threes was quiet for a couple of seconds, probably running through every possible cover-up story and simulating the results before answering. _"You are right. It is probably not a good idea to simply waltz up to their door looking like that. I would advise taking off your helmet for a start and leaving the assault rifle and SRS at your bike."_

"And then what? Just go over to them san say 'Hi, an interdimensional being sent me to make sure your daughter stays alive, because four-eyed alien slavers are gonna attack you.'? Fuck that, I want a real plan."

" _If you hadn't interrupted me, reclaimer, I would have told you right away. I suggest approaching the father first. Records show the mother is off-planet, on an assignment, so he'll be on his guard. Show a strictly non-threatening attitude and approach slowly. You are there because you are an old friend of his wife, Hannah, from before they met. If he asks any difficult questions just repeat what I tell you. You might want to throw in a salute as well, people usually see others as less of a threat when you greet them as if they are superior to you."_

I nodded, preparing myself to be as non-threatening as possible, but being in my line of work (only sometimes legal), I had to build myself up to be able to scare and threaten the most ruthless terrorists, drug lords, crime bosses, and even special forces operatives. Safe to say that over the last years I hadn't spoken a friendly word to anyone outside of Hades (and Sarah). _This ought to be fun._

"Let's hope it works, then. We're here."

I stopped my hover-bike-thing around fifty meters from the farmhouse. It was a nice building, but not exactly what I had expected. It looked like it was a mesh between a prefab colony building and one of those American ranches you always see in movies, giving it a rigid and effective, yet homely look.

On the veranda stood a single rocking chair, occupied by a man, looking around forty years old. He was wearing a sturdy military – or what I assumed was military – jacket, and a blue baseball cap pushed down over his eyes, shielding them from the evening sun. He looked up as I dismounted, leaving my assault and sniper rifle attached to the saddle.

"Who the hell are you?" he said in a harsh tone as I got closer and took off my helmet, revealing my face. My light brown hair was tousled and stood in all directions, caused by not getting a haircut for a month and then wearing a helmet.

"1st Lieutenant Marcus Shepard, I presume? I am here on official Alliance business concerning your wife, who happens to be a friend of mine." I saluted. Damn, it felt strange to salute to someone who wasn't Durant or an employer. Anyways, I just repeated what Threes told me to say through my earpiece.

"You still haven't answered my question. And how do I know you're not trying to trick me, hmm? No, you better turn around, hop back on that fancy bike of yours, and get the hell away from my farm." He said, slightly hostile, but not more so then expected.

I stayed put, holding my helmet in the crook of my arm. "Sir, I have to insist. It concerns a possible attack on you and your children, something which I was hired to stop from happening." I half-lied. I wasn't exactly told to protect the lot of 'em, just Shepard, but I guess while I'm here I might as well.

Some of the hostility disappeared from his face, "Who, who would want to kill us? We moved here to get away from that shit in the first place."

"Well, I have no idea, but I suspect someone with a grudge against you, or your wife, or both. I was hoping you were able to supply me with that information. Who knows, it might be Batarians for all we know." I said indifferently.

"How do I know you're not lying?" Ah, still suspicious I see. Luckily Threes forged those documents.

"Will this do?" I asked as I activated my omnitool and pulled up the masterfully forged documents and showed them to him. He nodded and went inside, leaving the door open for me to follow. I grabbed my weapons from the bike and followed, attaching the SRS to the magnetic plate, but keeping my assault rifle in front of me, attached to its sling.

Threes, who had practically been telling me exactly what to say, decided to speak up. _"Reclaimer, there seems to be a problem."_

I quickly slipped my helmet back on so that I could talk to him without being overheard. I looked around, Shepard was getting his son and daughter from their rooms. I was still alone downstairs. "What is it, bulb?"

" _Multiple signatures have exited from FTL they are overrunning the defences. I have sent a distress call to the Systems Alliance, but it will be a while before they will be able to respond. I have also taken the liberty to alarm the colonial administration of an impending raid. There are several shuttles heading towards the countryside as well."_

"Well, shit. Alright, I'll alarm Shepard. Can you pilot the ship?" I said as I got into motion, my armoured boots stomping loudly on the wooden stairs.

" _Affirmative. What will you have me do, Reclaimer?"_ the AI answered.

"I want you to shoot down any freighters and shuttles heading towards the main colony you can. Remember, though, we _cannot_ lose the ship. Once I finish up here I want you to pick me up. I may not really care what happens to those people, but slavery isn't something I'd wish upon even my worst enemy- disregard that, I _would_ wish it upon my worst enemy, but not on these innocent people."

Threes was silent for a few seconds before answering, _"It will be done, Reclaimer."_ With that he cut the transmission.

I almost bumped into Shepard as he came out of one of the rooms, holding a scared nine-year-old in his arms. The man sent me a glare, but I didn't pay any heed to it. "Shepard, my scanners have picked up multiple Batarian transports coming our way. You better get your children to safety and grab a weapon, unless you want to end up as a slave."

The man's eyes widened and was about to speak, but he was interrupted by a teenager with fiery red hair who came up the stairs after me. "Dad, what's going on? Who is this guy and what's he doing in our house?"

Her father disregarded her questions, instead opting to put the little boy on the ground and shove him towards the girl who was undoubtedly the one I was supposed to protect. "Jane, take Aiden and hide in the basement, don't come out unless I come to get you, alright?" The girl nodded and turned around, her little brother's hand in hers.

"Girl!" she turned around to face me and I pulled one of my Mavericks and handed the large hand cannon to her. It looked almost comical, if we weren't about to be invaded, of course. "You've got eight shots, it cocks automatically and kicks like a mule. Be sure to make every shot count, although one should be enough to blow a fist-sized hole in anything." With that I gently pushed her on, glancing towards the father and grinning wickedly under my helmet.

"Let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

It took the Batarians all of about fifteen minutes to find the house. When they came, we were ready for them. I had set up a few booby-traps at the front and back door, while Shepard had gathered just about every weapon he could find. He was armed with a Carnifex pistol, a shotgun, an Avenger Assault Rifle, and a large bowie knife. In addition, he had turned a few bottles of heavy alcohol into Molotov cocktails by adding some kerosene and rags.

I had set up on the second story - in Aiden's room, since it had the best view on the surrounding area - with my SRS, having pushed a desk up to the window so that I could get a more comfortable position and to make sure I wouldn't betray my position because of a massive barrel sticking out of a window.

I smiled, the full mags were splayed out on the desk next to me, within easy reach. I had five mags, including the one already loaded. Each was filled with four 14.5x114mm armour-piercing rounds, plus the one in the chamber. The rifle would leave a vapour trail, but I estimate I would be able to take down at least a dozen of the fucks before they found out where the sniper fire was coming from.

 _They should be here soon… aaaaaanyyyy minute now. There you are, damn you're an ugly one, ain't ya._

Hmm, I needed some fitting music with this. I quickly selected a song and let it play over my helmet radio. The beats to Queen's _'Another one bites the dust'_ started and I focussed my crosshairs on the first alien.

 _Ooh, let`s go  
Steve walks warily down the street  
With the brim pulled way down low  
Ain`t no sound but the sound of his feet  
Machine guns ready to go_

I smiled a little wider.

 _Are you ready, hey, are you ready for this  
Are you hangin` on the edge of your seat  
Out of the doorway the bullets rip  
To the sound of the beat - yeah_

I squeezed the trigger, quickly moving from enemy to enemy, blowing football-sized holes into them, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, reload.

 _Another one bites the dust  
Another one bites the dust  
And another one gone and another one gone  
Another one bites the dust, eh  
Hey, I`m gonna get you too  
Another one bites the dust_

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, reload. They were getting more cautious.

 _How do you think I`m going to get along  
Without you when you`re gone  
You took me for everything that I had  
And kicked me out on my own_

 _Are you happy? Are you satisfied?_  
 _How long can you stand the heat_  
 _Out of the doorway the bullets rip_  
 _To the sound of the beat_  
 _Look out_

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, reload. I heard Shepard start shooting as well.

 _Another one bites the dust  
Another one bites the dust  
And another one gone and another one gone  
Another one bites the dust, eh  
Hey, I`m gonna get you too  
Another one bites the dust_

BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, reload. That was a bit more than the dozen mark. Time to go downstairs and help Shepard out.

 _Hey  
Oh take it  
Bites the dust - bite the dust hey  
Hey  
Another one bites the dust  
Another one bites the dust, ow  
Another one bites the dust, hey hey  
Another one bites the dust, heeey  
Ooh show down_

I turned the music off and gathered my stuff. I switched the SRS for my Gruber, making my way down the stairs slowly. It wouldn't be long until the slavers realised he wasn't shooting at them anymore. A loud blast at the front door proved me correct. I'm sure the pieces of alien all over the veranda would agree with me. I gunned another one down. That was eleven kills, as I was also mostly supressing the slavers when they got a little too bold, hoping that Threes would soon be here with the ship.

Shepard wasn't faring as well, as he seemed pinned down by the window. I noticed that he had only one Molotov left, and that he was bleeding from his leg. Well, that was bad. It seemed pretty serious as well, and I certainly ain't a medic!

I shot a Batarian that was climbing through the window to his left, filling it with a burst of metal. It fell out of the window, but it's shields saved it from certain death. That was something which needed to be fixed. I did so by grabbing my one left-over Maverick and shooting through the wall, which evoked a gurgling scream from the shithead.

There was an explosion at the backdoor, most likely blowing another one or two of them to pieces. I glanced at Shepard and found that he wouldn't be walking anywhere for a while, "Sir, I want you to stay the fuck put, cover this side of the house, I'll go take care of the ones around the back!" He nodded, lighting the rag of his last Molotov and throwing it through the window. There were another couple of screams. _Damn, there's a lot of them._

It suddenly turned very silent, my footsteps resounded through the hallway, the wood creaked under my armoured weight. I saw a shadow around the corner. _Someone's waiting for me, it seems_. No doubt there was a slaver waiting for me to round the corner and shoot me in the face.

 _Fuck, I wish the rest of Hades was here. CQC was never my speciality._ I slowly got closer and closer to the corner, unclipping what I assumed was a grenade from my belt. _Luckily the gear came with the suit, or I'd be fucked._

I took it in my left hand, lobbing it around the corner without unpinning it. There was what sounded like a swearword in what must've been one of the ugliest languages I'd ever heard, the sound of an armoured being running from cover was next. I rounded the corner and shot a burst, clipping its shield and overloading it before its friend fired back and I was forced around the corner again.

 _You wanna play this hard? Fine, let's play it hard._ I'd seen the raiders were hiding behind a couch in the few seconds that I was able to shoot. I also realised that a couch probably wouldn't stop a spray of bullets from my rifle. In what was probably a move that was more reckless than it was smart, I combat-rolled around the corner and let loose a spray from my Gruber, turning the couch into Swiss cheese. My rifle gave a few warning beeps, signifying it was overheating, and I quickly threw it aside, taking out my Maverick in its stead. _Seven shots, shouldn't be too much of an issue._

My HUD had identified two humanoid shapes behind the couch, highlighting them in orange. Damn, I loved this thing. Two shots later there were two less living Batarians in the house. I attached my maverick to my thigh plate again and picked up my Gruber, but I was suddenly grabbed from behind.

My attacker had an arm around my neck, its body pressed up close to mine so that I couldn't kick back. I slammed my head as hard into his unarmoured face as I could, breaking loose from its grasp and pulling a knife from the sheath on my lower back. I tried to strike, but the Batarian blocked my slash. It pulled a knife of its own and tried to stab me in the armpit, but I managed to dodge it just in time. The 1.66-meter sniper rifle on my back was really hampering my mobility in a knife fight.

I tried to stab it up the chin, but it once again blocked my attack. This time, though, I managed to knee it in the groin area, causing it to double over. I kneed it in the face again, probably breaking something, before I finally stabbed it in where the jugular would be, were it a human. It started gurgling, clawing at my arms, but it was too weak to do anything about it at that point. I gave the blade another good twist and pulled it out, the Batarian was laying limply on the floor, its four eyes widened in fear as it died.

I stood up, flicking some of the blood off my blade before sliding it back into its dedicate area. It had gone silent.

Until there was one more scream, a clearly female one, coming from the basement, followed by the loud bang of a hand-cannon. _Shit, that can't be good. Please don't tell me I failed my task on the first day._

I exchanged a look with Shepard, who looked positively in pain as he tried to stumble towards the door that lead to the basement as fast as possible, which wasn't very fast. I sighed, "Sir, I got this. Just stay on the couch and keep pressure on that wound."

I was off before he could protest, carefully moving through the hallway and down the stairs to the basement. When I finally got down the stairs, I saw my VIP a shaking and sobbing heavily, being held by her little brother. The first thought that came through my mind was: _Is this really the person who's supposed to save the galaxy?_ The second though was something like this: _Oh, yeah, right, still a kid. Huh, is that blood all over her?_

Indeed, it was. One of the Batarians that had decided to go around the back, and after one of its companions had been blown up by my booby-trap, it decided it would go through the window, evading me while I was pinned down around a corner. Its headless corpse now lay in the basement, the weapon it was shot with discarded on the floor and its killer a sobbing mess.

What a day…

* * *

Not long after, Threes arrived with the ship. I had bandaged and 'medi-gelled' Marcus' leg and Jane had stopped crying after she and Aiden finally saw their father was still alive. Aiden kept giving me an admiring look, something I was wholly unused to, so at the time I thought it was kind of creepy.

Anyway, after some coercing, I got the Shepard family to get on board the Firespray, under the reason that it wasn't safe to stay out in the countryside, especially after what we did to the raiding party. They would have surely called for backup after the absolute thrashing we gave them.

Jane helped her Father up the ramp and into the small med-bay while I pushed the folded-up bike into the cargo hold. When it was secured to its sot on the wall I sighed happily and turned around…

To be startled when the was suddenly a nine-year-old's face in front of mine. I didn't show it, of course. That would have been unbecoming from a black ops operative. _Well, I guess former black ops, I'm an assassin now, remember_. I told myself.

I looked the boy in the eyes, which shone in curiosity one could only find in young children. Now how to talk to children? I never really did that much, and I don't think child soldiers shooting at you can be considered as such. "What do you want?" _Smooth, Riley, very smooth._ A sarcastic voice in my head said.

"I- um, I wanted to thank you, mister. I'm Aiden, who are you?" he extended a little hand and I couldn't help myself from shaking it.

"Name's Hades, kid. You done asking questions?" I hoped I would be done with him after that, but he's persistent little bugger if anything. He saw it as an invitation to fire a barrage of questions at me.

"No. Is Hades your real name? What were you doing at our house? Dad said you know mom, where from? What do you do as a job? What kind of ship is this? What is the talking and flying ball?"

 _Jesus this kid can talk quickly, but I guess I can answer some of those questions…_ "In that order?" the boy nodded vigorously. "No, keeping you, your sister, and your dad safe, school, I kill people, this is a Firespray-31, that flying ball is 333 Silent Traveller, or Threes, as I like to call him." I hoped I was done with him, but I say again he's persistent if anything.

"You kill people?" he said with a small voice, not quite believing it, "For money?"

"Yes… for money, will you please leave me alone now? I still have to do a lot of shit." Why wouldn't he just _leave already_?

"Cool." _Did he really just… did he say being an assassin was_ cool _of all things? Damn, that's fucked up._ My inner voice spoke up again: _Said the person who actually is an assassin and was part of an elite black ops team before that…_

 _Shut up._

Aiden turned around and was making his way back to the med-bay, finally leaving me to do what I had to do, which was take a nap and look over my weapons when I was better rested. I sat down in the chair by a weapons maintenance desk, laying my weapons in front of me and leaning back. It would be a while until I could disassemble and reassemble the weapon like I could with an M16 or M4 back home, but I would start practicing that when I wasn't very tired.

Threes floated over to me, "To the colony, Reclaimer?"

"Yes, I can use a good bit of urban warfare to get rid of the headache that kid just caused me." I chuckled.

"Alright, Reclaimer, setting course."

"Threes, lock the door, will you?" I leaned back in my chair a bit further, closing my eyes and drifting off to an undoubtedly nightmare-filled, restless form of sleep. _What a day indeed._

* * *

 **Well that's chapter 3 over and done with. Geez did this cost me a lot of headaches.  
As you can see, I've tried to bring out the side of Riley that is a coldblooded killer. I hope this made it a bit more obvious. And don't worry, this won't become some sort of obscure songfic. ;)  
He's already starting to change what could be seen as 'canon' by saving Shepard's father and brother. I plan on mixing the different backstories together a bit, so there's that to look forward too, but Riles will of course get adventures of his own as well. For now, though, it is past 4 in the morning and I'm really tired, so goodbye, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, here it is… finally. I would give you a good excuse, but I don't really have any. "I have been playing video games." Isn't a very good one, is it? Either way, I blame Steam for having a summer sale. My wallet hurts.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It took me a lot of sporadic writing, but I believe I have a result I can be somewhat satisfied with.**

 **This chapter has not been beta'ed**

* * *

~Chapter 4~

Dromak was a Batarian captain. Not just a simple freighter captain, or even a regular military captain; no, he was a captain in the Batarian SIU. He had gone through the brutal training and come out as one of the best in his class. He was off the Warrior Caste, a son of the mighty family of Kur'sak. He owned dozens of slaves from every species. And yet here he was, on a human world, _capturing slaves_ of all things. This assignment was far below him, but _someone_ had to keep an eye on the Terminus rabble sponsored by the Hegemony- that someone being him, according to the SIU.

He sighed once more. This was too easy; outer colonies of the Systems Alliance always were. The garrison was too small to put up much of a fight, although the 'Human Ingenuity' as they called it was a bit annoying. Always finding ways to be a pain in his ass, those humans. _The only thing that's good about them is their women, and they start to get boring once you've broken them._

He was shaken from his thoughts when a private caught his attention with a salute, his head tilted to the left, showing the respect - and fear - that he called up from his own soldiers. "Sir, we just got a distress call from one of the raiding parties we sent into the lands surrounding the colony. They reported that they were under heavy sniper-fire. We lost contact a minute ago, sir. I took the liberty to have an ensign preform a scan of the area, he reported no survivors."

The private sounded worried, which honestly didn't say a whole lot as the price of failure was well known amongst his troops. Yet for an entire party to go missing… and then there was that strange ship that had shot half his freighters out of the sky, appearing for a few seconds to fire a salvo or a barrage of missiles before disappearing into thin air. No one had gotten a good look at it, and the scanners didn't pick it up, so the officers had decided that they'd tell their troops that the colony simply had better AA batteries than expected. Better avoid panic to keep the rabble in line…

He sat down in the command chair of his cruiser and gave an order to the private, who seemed very relieved that he wouldn't be bit out, "This can't be a coincidence. Double the patrols around the slave pens and start loading them up; I want to leave as soon as possible."

* * *

A Batarian guard, not even important enough to name, was standing next to a door. Not a regular door of wood as I was used to, no, it was a fancy sliding door made out of metal. The only thing that stood out was that above the door was a sign, which somehow - don't ask me for the specifics as to exactly _how_ \- was translated into perfect English by the software in my omni-tool.

It was also my target for now. To disable this freighter in the most efficient way I had to destroy the engines, or so Threes had informed me. It seemed relatively straight-forward, we had done something like it back in Somalia, where we infiltrated a large freighter acting as a mobile base for pirates, smugglers and other scum like it.

Now, though, I didn't have a team of elite special forces operatives to help. I was alone, and I really needed to get used to it.

Luckily, I was wearing a state-of-the-art suit of armour. The active camouflage was something I needed to get used to next to being on my own. It was a surreal feeling, being practically invisible to not only the filth that owned this ship, but to myself as well. I can guarantee you that it is _not_ easy to do… well, anything, really, when you can't see yourself. My HUD had thankfully quickly adapted to the active camo and - again, don't ask me for the specifics - somehow used sensors in the armour to show me exactly where what was.

Anyways, with the cloak working it was a piece of cake sneaking by the guards at the entrance ramp. As had it been to dispose of the patrols outside. The only downsides to the cloak were that when I moved too fast it would shimmer, possibly revealing my position to the enemy, and that It seemed to stop working once the plates were covered with something. I noticed this when my left arm was covered in blood.

It was not so much that it _stopped working_ , no, it just didn't cloak any kind of fluid. Blood, paint; things like that could stick to the surface, rendering the cloak useless. Luckily the blood was easily washed off at s secluded stream, but regardless, it was something I needed to keep in mind.

My knife stabbed into the guard's throat, severing the jugular and spine. I tried to avoid the blood spatter as I pulled my knife out and lowered the alien to the floor. I couldn't avoid the clatter of armour plates hitting the metal deck, but it was sufficient to keep the slavers around the corner from investigating.

Threes quickly hacked the door and I moved into the engine room. There was a singular technician working on some complicated-looking piece of machinery. I snapped its neck quickly- a more painless death than it deserved, but I was low on time.

It was not for the first time that I wished Crow was here. I was okay with explosives, but he was _good_. No, he was a fucking artist when it came to making things go boom. Where he would probably have sculpted his explosive into the shape that would cause the most damage, I simply slapped a piece of powerful C12 on it, deciding it would be powerful enough to disable, if not outright destroy the freighter.

 _And there goes number five._ I smiled contently, five out of eight engines sabotaged. There was only one problem; I had run out of explosives. Well, I still had some grenades - two frags, one smoke, and one incendiary to be precise, but I'd rather use those on the actual slavers. Oh, how I enjoyed watching them burn last time…

Either way, I would have to make sure I got the captured humans out of the blast radius. Hopefully the freighters exploding would cause enough damage to the remaining three to keep them from bowing up. I knew that was unlikely, though, so I'd have to designate those for an airstrike by Threes.

From what I was hearing over the Batarians' radio, the AI was doing a good job taking down fighters and shuttles, shooting a few down and then quickly disappearing before the AA and other craft could zero in on him. Even though it's strange talking to a floating ball, I was coming to greatly appreciate the help he had thus far provided. I probably wouldn't even be able to tell you this if he hadn't saved my life countless of times over the years.

I broke off my thinking on explosives when I exited down the ramp, where I stepped on the slightly muddy Mindoir soil, some dirt and mud sticking to my boots. I fucking hated this place… Not Mindoir itself, mind you, but the fucking swamp the fucking slavers had decided to land their fucking ships in.

I sighed in annoyance and started to slowly make my way over to the holding 'pens'. They were heavily guarded, and I had to stand stock still multiple times as a guard passed me. I was lucky, though. None of them seemed to notice the hovering blood spatters or the footprints left behind by boots that weren't there. I didn't need to worry about them seeing my shadow, since it was pretty cloudy, so I guess that's nice.

I crouched down behind a medium sized shipping crate, but I must've nudged it slightly, because one of the small crates stacked on top of it fell off. I cursed softly at both myself and the Batarians for not being able to stack crates correctly.

"Hey, Dophe, did you hear that? We better go check it out." _Goddammit! Well, it's one way to get rid of 'em, I guess… I'm close to the pens anyways._ I reached to my lower back, where I freed my combat knife from its sheathe. It was coated in the same stuff that the rest of my armour and weapons were, making it practically invisible to the naked eye.

I heard the boots of the pair slopping through the muddy ground. I counted in my head when the first one would reach me; _5… 4… 3… 2… FUCK YOU!_ I jumped out and pulled the slaver behind the crate, more blood covering my forearms and hands as I deftly slit its throat and muffled his scream.

The second guard rushed after him as soon as it saw its friend disappear, hoping to catch me. I flanked around the crate, coming up behind the startled Batarian. I paused as I heard it sob. For a moment the slaver seemed so… human, as it cried over its- _his_ lost brother. I hesitated for a second, but shoved those thoughts to the back of my mind, reminding myself that they were kidnapping people and selling them like they were cattle.

I sneered- how human-like the Batarian may have seemed, he was still a monster, so I took it in a strangle grip and twisted its neck. I dumped the body on the floor, on top of its dead comrade. I had better things to do than think on morality and ethics towards other species right now, so I reprimanded myself for hesitating like that and continued on.

A wry smile decorated my lips. I could imagine the absolute hell Durant would've given me, had he seen me freeze up like that. There's an expression out there that goes a little something like this: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." We made our own version: "Hell hath no fury like Durant scorned." Yeah, he was _that_ bad.

Anyways, going off topic again. I was nearing the outer holding pens. There were only a few colonists here, but they all seemed in equally bad condition. There were a few girls in tattered clothing, holding on to others for dear life- I could only imagine what the slavers had done to them. I saw a few men trying to shield them as best as possible from the hungry four-eyed look one of the guards sent them. My eyes narrowed.

They were collared. Collared like animals. I didn't have a doubt that the collars were either of the shock or explosive kind. I wasn't angry. I was absolutely and utterly _furious_. I stalked up behind a pair of chatting guards and unclipped my hand cannon from the magnetic plate.

"I'm tellin' ya, once I get this raid over an' done with, I'm returning to my wife. She just had our second child, an'I want ta be there ta see 'im grow up." The other Batarian nodded and was about to reply when its head was blown off, covering both me and the other Batarian in its blood and brain matter.

The look of shock I its eyes was priceless. I almost felt sad to see it replaced with one of pain when I kicked it in the nuts and shot it in the knee, blowing the lower leg right off. I finished it off with a boot to the jugular as it squirmed in pain on the ground, not even watching it die before I turned to the remaining four guards.

They were backing off slowly, a look of fear on their faces as they raised their rifles at me with trembling hands. I grinned savagely, unloading three bullets into one of them, turning its chest into a warmed mess of armour and flesh. It was then that they got their wits - as far as they had them - back together and opened fire on me. I had exactly three shots left in this cartridge, enough to take them all out.

I sprinted towards them, the bullets being stopped or deflected by my shields and my visor clearing my vision by evaporating the blood running over it with electric pulses. I reached the first slaver, pistol-whipping it in the face and using my free hand to twist its arm, using the despicable being as a meat shield. The weak shields didn't hold out long. Its armour even shorter.

The few seconds of the slavers shooting their comrade did give me the time to kneecap one and shoot the other in the chest as its friends fell to the ground. _Hmm, one bullet left… what to do, what to do…_ I chuckled, shooting the Batarian that was crawling on the ground, trying to reach its fallen rifle in the other knee.

I rolled it to its back using my foot, setting it on the slaver's chest afterwards. I saw the fear and anger in its eyes as I bent over and spoke with a voice modified by my helmet, "Hey there, buddy. You seem to have lost something." I pointed at the loose legs, one hanging on by just a few tendons. "Now, you're gonna give me the codes to unlock those fences and collars, or you, my dear Batarian friend, are going to find out what it means to _truly_ be in pain before you bleed out, you understand?"

"Get away from me, monster! I will not be threatened by the likes of you, you _kra'tash Reth'va Tal!_ "

I put some more pressure on its chest until I heard a rib crack. I looked it in the eyes again, noting no change in expression. I aimed my Maverick at its head, sighing, "Well, it's not that interrogation is the only way I'm gonna get the information, but I was hoping for some fun with you, my _compadre_. Either way, it's not worth wasting my time with you. _Adios_ , ya dick." I said before I pulled the trigger and its head all but disappeared. _I suppose hacking it is, then._

I attached the large sidearm to my thigh again, noticing the blood that had accumulated on my arms, chest, and head. Some of the colonists looked thankful, but the majority seemed frightened, shying away from me as I approached the bars of the pen. I disabled the lock, and stepped in, trying to somewhat calm the colonists down.

"Wh- what _are_ you?" one of them - a stocky man with dirty brown hair - asked, his voice quivering.

 _Oh, shit, I forgot to turn the camo off!_ Once I had done so, and the floating blood had been replaced with armour plating (even though a lot of it was still covered with blood) they somewhat calmed down. "Hades." I simply answered, "I'm here to get you out."

I switched the speakers in my helmet off, talking to Threes privately, "You're sure you can do this?" I asked the construct, crouching down next to the man who had first spoken to me, holding him still as I looked over the collar. It seemed pretty complicated…

" _I am a millennia old super AI, developed by the people who built the Halo Rings and the Ark. Yes."_

"Alright, alright, no need to be a dick about it. Now what do I do?" I asked quickly.

" _Scan the device, I will do the rest."_ The man tried to flinch away, but he was weakened and my grip was strong, even stronger than usual with the suit's internal exoskeleton, and my dull-black visor was quite intimidating, as it should be.

It wasn't long before Threes had hacked the horrible device and it opened with a clack, falling from the man's neck onto the ground.

His eyes widened and a lot of the fear he had for me vanished as I continued on to the next captive. There were around a dozen, but with Threes doing all the work it took me only a few minutes to get them all free. It was when the last collar fell off a girl's neck, that I realised something; I had no Idea how I was going to get them all back to the garrison. There was no way that I was taking them with me as continued to my final objective. Neither was I leaving them behind to be recaptured by the Batarians.

I looked at the prisoners, of which at least three seemed to be either military or former military. I gave them a once-over; while they were bruised and dirty, they were well-built and seemed alert. I then looked at the armoured bodies of the slavers.

A plan started to form in my head that might just work…

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the void, one 'Deity', or Overseer, as their actual position was called, was pacing in front of one of his colleagues. His restlessness was easily explained by the fact that the Universe he was supposed to watch over had experienced some ripples which were… worrying, for sure.

It was said colleague who placed her hand on his shoulder and tried to stop him, "Fonce, calm down, I don't see your twin wearing a hole in the floor. Here, have a drink." She said as she offered him a cup.

Fonce looked grateful, but worry was still deep in his eyes. "Thank you, Morrigan, but I will not calm down until I get the news from Lumira how our 'Verse is faring. My sister should have been back by now…"

Morrigan pulled the male half of the Force twins into a soft embrace, kissing him deeply on the lips afterwards. "Husband, there is no need to be so frightful. Need I remind you that your sister has made it through much worse than a simple check-up on some ripples? Now, how about we relieve some of that tension, shall we?" She said coyly, winking at him before turning around and walking into her own part of the void, not even looking to see if Fonce was following her.

* * *

 **And the plot thickens. Well, a little bit, I hope.**

 **Also, cliff-hanger. I hope I'll be able to write more, but it will likely take a while. I have some real life things to take care of as well, and sadly that has priority over writing.**

 **Please, tell me what you thought. I really appreciate any constructive criticism.**

 **Cheers, Mac Gustah**


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, here it is. I know that it has taken way too long, but I have a partially valid excuse, I promise! You see, this chapter is the… what was it, I think fifth version. I deleted, rewrote, decided I didn't like it and so on and so forth, until I decided to get on with it. Now, problem was, I had a move in the time between last version and this one (which I am not entirely satisfied with), so I didn't have all that much time over the last month.**

 **Tbh, I had a hard time writing this, so I decided to add a side story which will show up when I decide the chapter isn't long enough yet. I actually had a lot of fun writing that. Also, there is going to be a liberal use of flashbacks from now on.**

 **I hope you enjoy the chapter, give me some feedback, and just generally have a great day!**

 **(This chapter was not beta-ed, so do point out any grammatical mistakes or typos if you feel like it)**

* * *

~Chapter 5~

 **Six months later,  
Illium, Nos Astra, Lakeside District,**

I sighed as I peered through my scope, highlighting all the guards surrounding my target. They were just making it _too_ easy. Four guards around the target, five more trying to blend into the crowd, and one sniper on overwatch. Well, there _was_ a sniper on overwatch. I had to commend him on the excellent vantage point he had taken, I had a really good view on the target from here.

That target being a certain former Turian Blackwatch operative who had deserted and subsequently joined the Shadow Broker as one of his agents. Aaaaand then he betrayed the Shadow Broker, which is the reason I am now hunting him. You can say all you want about the 'Broker, but he/she/it does _not_ like to be double-crossed. That, and his jobs are fucking lucrative as hell.

I sighed again and whispered to myself, "I swear to god, it was like they aren't even trying. Where's the fun in this?" It was honestly getting to my nerves. I mean, I get that I was relatively 'new' to the business, but this was plain boring. I swear, if tall and birdy didn't have some info I in his head I needed myself I wouldn't even bother. It's not like I had a lack of money, especially with a super AI which could literally steal all the money in the galaxy in a matter of minutes, so this was purely for convenience. And fun, but people usually look at me strangely when I say such things…

Oh well, back to the mission. _Let's see, four in a mag, one in the chamber. One shot one kill, start by shooting the target in the leg, go for the Asari guard next to him, then the two Turians, first left, then right, then go for the Salarian and reload. Get rid of the other guards, take the prize and GTFO._

I took a deep breath, closing myself off from my surroundings and focussing on the targets. I became one with the rifle, one with the scope, one with the trigger. I started my sequence.

The rifle kicked against my shoulder and the Turian fell down to the ground, his lower leg staying attached to the rest by only a few strings. Another shot, not a second after the first one, took out the Asari, the Turians were next and hit the ground like scaly bags of alien potatoes.

I cursed as the Salarian reacted quickly and hid behind a conveniently placed chest-high wall. _Fuck it, I'll deal with him later._ I continued on to the other guards after I reloaded, dropping them quite quickly, except for one, who found solace behind a… chest-high wall. _Are you fucking kiddin' me?_

I swear to god those things are gonna be my downfall someday. But never mind that, I-Sec was bound to be attracted to this commotion, so I had to finish it. Fast.

I rappelled down the building, the strong military-grade rope holding up no problem. I fucking love the future. Granted, the genocidal space squids or whatever's comin' are a little annoying, but I _love_ the new gadgets! Maybe if we had them on the mission in Ukrai- _Don't_ _think about that._ I reprimanded myself as I hit the ground, dashing to cover immediately after.

The surviving Turian was laying down suppressive fire while the Salarian tried to pull my target to safety. Emphasis on the word _tried._ Turians - even when lacking a lower leg - still weigh a helluva lot, especially in armour.

Noticing the attempt to escape I stood up, my shields absorbing all the incoming fire from the Turian before he was terminated by a Maverick round to the chest. I eyed my shield-bar and grunted. Those shields, or 'Kinetic Barriers' if you wanna be all correct about it, sure were useful, but they didn't stop me from getting knocked a bit back whenever bullets hit them.

* * *

Dantus Proditor was, for the first time in the last ten years, truly scared. He fumbled trying to get his pistol as he pushed himself through the pain. He was very aware of the trail of blood he was leaving as one of his guards, a Salarian named Karreh, slowly dragged him into cover. From his position on the ground he had seen his guards picked off by some sniper. He had seen how the body of one of his oldest friends had fell to the ground next to him, a large mangled, bleeding hole where his heart used to be.

He saw how the unknown assassin popped out of cover and with uncanny precision nailed his last remaining Turian guard in the centre of mass. _What kind of weapons do that kind of damage?!_ He thought as he shot in the direction of the assassin, causing the grey, armoured figure to duck behind a crate.

The Blackwatch operative kept his Carnifex trained on the position he had seen his assailant while Karreh slowly pulled him into cover from where he could call for reinforcements. He propped himself up against the wall of the alley and took a deep breath. The adrenalin was slowly dissipating and he started noticing the pain in his leg. Steeling himself, he looked down to see half of his leg missing.

The auto-injectors in his armour had already covered most of it in medi-gel, but it still hurt like spirits-damned hell! The Turian quickly looked away from his leg again, looking at the Salarian instead. The amphibian was quickly tapping buttons on his omni-tool while looking at the entrance every now and again to make sure the assassin hadn't decided to show up yet.

"Sir, contacted reinforcements. Air car will be here in five minutes to extract you." Karreh said in the quick speech typical of his race. He just grunted, trying to keep his attention away from his leg. Or lack thereof, rather.

"Karreh, how long until the evac arrives?" No aswer, "Karreh? What's going on?" He looked around for the Salarian, only to find him crumpled on the ground. His eyes widened when he saw an armoured form shimmer into view.

It was the last thing he saw before the world went black.

* * *

" _And you are sure he is dead?"_ the highly synthesized voice on the other side of the connection asked. I rolled my eyes behind my visor and held up the severed Turian leg, putting it in front of the webcam-like device on my ship.

"Yes, I'm pretty fuckin' sure. Now give me the fucking money before I decide to come get it myself." I said, using the coldest tone I could muster- which was pretty goddamn cold, if I say so myself. I was worried at first about working for the Shadow Broker, but Threes had guaranteed me that any connections sent to me or my ship could not be traced.

In reverse, I knew _exactly_ where and _who_ the… person was, so my threats were anything but idle. My contractor, on the other hand, was not quite aware of that information. _"Bluffing and empty threats will get you nowhere, assassin. And it is not advisable to threaten an agent of the Shadow Broker himself."_

I snarled and dropped the leg to my side, "If you do not give me my money I'll show your wife, son, and daughter on the Citadel how empty my fucking threats are, you ungrateful piece of shit!" We had been at this for nearly ten minutes now, something which was not the case with the last gig I did for the 'Broker.

Seriously, last time it was all smooth sailing, I made the kill and got the cash, but now this fuckwit (who was probably new and on some sorta power trip or somethin') was refusing to close the deal! Honestly, I would have preferred working with a Krogan over this sorry piece of stool. They were a lot less fucking stubborn, that's for sure. They don't die quite as easily, though…

" _Alright, alright, calm down! I just wanted to be sure, ok? Look, I don't know how you know about my family, but you'll get the money!"_ he wasn't quite panicked, but there _was_ a certain feeling of unease I felt behind that last sentence.

"Good, that's all I wanted. G'bye and have a nice day." I abruptly terminated the connection and pulled my helmet off. Where there had at first been an unruly mop of light brown hair, there was now a military buzz cut and a thin beard. I wiped some of the sweat from my brow and attached the helmet to my belt before standing up from the pilot's chair, which was less difficult than it seemed, as it turned when one wanted to get in or out of the seat.

I needed a drink and a bite to eat before I concluded my business of today, so I went to the cargo hold and opened one of the crates, taking out a muesli bar and a bottle of water. I took a sip and sat down on one of the metal boxes containing various supplies…

* * *

 **Flashback, Six months ago,  
Firespray, Cargo Hold**

I looked at the ruined chestpiece on the workbench in front of me. _I shouldn't have let that damn Asari get the opportunity to throw that warp. Sloppy, Riley, sloppy._ My chest hurt in a way it had never done before, but the medigel should take care of that in no time.

The chest armour on the other hand… it was just a warped piece of scrap now. I honestly hadn't expected the armour to last me only this short amount of time. Contemplating what to do next, I was startled by the sudden appearance of a certain flying lightbulb.

"Oh my, oh my, reclaimer, it seems that this is beyond repair. You'd be better off replacing it and throwing away this piece of scrap!" Threes said in his regular excited tone. _Why does he always have to be so upbeat?_

"Goddammit, Threes, don't startle me like that! And where am I supposed to find a replacement for something which is probably the only thing of its kind in this _entire universe_?" I asked, exasperated.

The monitor cocked to the side a little in what I assumed was a confused gesture, "Well, from one of the crates, of course! What, did you think our boss would just throw you into this 'verse without spare equipment? You've been getting your ammunition from one of them, have you not?" the AI stated, his tone the slightest bit condescending as he flew over the crates and boxes in an erratic pattern, stopping above each one to tell me what exactly was in it, "This one contains spare parts for the ship, this one is food, drink and other such necessities, this here's the spare parts for the hover bike, this one is filled with medical supplies, thi-"

I interrupted the energetic AI, rubbing the bridge of my nose, "Can you _please_ just tell me which fucking box has some new armour?" Threes nodded and moved over to one of the crates, "Thank you."

* * *

"Ah, reclaimer!" Threes shouted in my ear. I shot out of my memory and glared at the construct.

"What?" I bit back, not entirely in the mood for his shenanigans right now. The AI apologized, but continued with what it had to say immediately after.

"I have finished the procurement of a penthouse with a landing pad in Nos Astra for a short period of time. The near-complete surveillance makes it a… tedious place to keep hidden, but we should be fine for the extent of our visit here. It is sound proof, so it is an opportune place for us to house our guest! Furthermore, the payment from the Shadow Broker has been received and I have siphoned all the credits from our guest's and his guards' accounts."

I smiled. As annoying as the bulb might be sometimes, he was worth a trillion times his weight in gold. "Good. Land the ship, but keep it in stealth mode, we wouldn't want any unnecessary attention, now would we? We'll deal with the Turian in the morning, because right now I need some sleep. How long until we are at the penthouse?" I asked as I started to strip from my bloody armour and threw on some jeans and a simple white T-shirt.

"Fifteen minutes, reclaimer." I nodded and gathered the stuff I'd dropped on the floor.

I threw the undersuit and gloves into a small washing machine before I started to scrub the armour. 'Take care of your gear and it will take care of you.', as my DI in basic use to always say. And Sarge. Damn he went absolutely apeshit if someone didn't do that.

It was when I removed the remaining mags from the webbing that I remembered something: the severed Turian leg in the middle of the cargo hold. _I should probably put that on ice for tomorrow._

* * *

 **Next morning,  
Illium, Nos Astra, Residential District,  
Penthouse**

I poured myself a glass of orange juice before sitting down on one of the barstools at the kitchen island. Apparently a full fridge had been included in the price for the penthouse, filled with all kinds of delicacies. I took a sip and savoured the sweet flavour. This was without a doubt the best safehouse I'd ever stayed in.

It was furnished in a modern style, with mostly blacks and whites, except for some pieces of modern art I didn't really care for. The glass was one-way, so people couldn't peek into my personal business, and last night Threes had upped all the security and locks.

 _I should probably get dressed and get to work…_ I thought as I finished the glass and grabbed an apple. "Threes, can you make sure we have everything for today's activities? I'm going to go on a walk before I start today's activities."

After all, what was point of living in a city full of parks if you didn't make use of them? So, I grabbed my jacket and the Carnifex I had taken from the dead Salarian and headed out, gun safely in my holster. When I got to the door I reached into my pocket and put on a worn cap and put it on my head. With the constant surveillance everywhere it might be better if I at least had something that made it a little more difficult to see my face.

I took the elevator down with the idea I would get to the park with no trouble whatsoever. I was proven wrong when the doors opened and a young Asari barrelled into me. Well, she seemed young, but she was likely three times my age or older. Fucking Asari with their crazy long lifespans.

"O- oh, excuse me sir! I-I-I didn't mean to do that, p-please don't hurt me!" she pleaded frantically, causing me to raise an eyebrow. Why would she think I was going to hurt her? Seriously, I didn't look _that_ scary, right? I mean, I wasn't even wearing my armour.

I just ignored her, stepping out of the elevator, not sparing her another glance, but she seemed persistent about apologising, "Sir! Sir, I'm sorry! Please don't ignore me, "She mumbled the next part seemingly to herself, but I had no trouble hearing it, ", not you as well."

Goddammit, she had caught my attention with that last statement. Why would anyone _ever_ ignore someone as… pretty as her? Objectively, of course. But dammit, she was interesting now, and that warranted further investigation, if just to satiate my curiosity. I sighed as I dropped my plans for the day and turned around to face her, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her gently back into the elevator.

"W-what are you doing?" she seemed more confused than scared, but I decided to grace her with an answer,

"You remind me of someone. And I am curious, so we are going to have a conversation." I like to think my people skills had increased in those first six months.

They hadn't, of course, but I like to think so.

* * *

 **Our Earth, 2016**

~Till Death Do Us Part 1~

Grimm was never tired. It was a fact he had come to live with for his entire, sleepless, stupid life. Well, death, he supposed. He was Grimm Reaper, after all; Soul Gatherer of universe B-31-2, subsector 7c. Most people called him Death, though.

Actually, he thought it was rather unfair for them to call him that, since he wasn't the one actually _killing_ them. No, he was only there to make sure their souls could move on to the beyond (and keep a tight schedule on deaths). It was the sad truth that in some cases, when it was someone's time, they just wouldn't die. Now, he himself didn't really mind if they kept living for another month or so, but he did have a quota to fill and souls to get to the recycler.

If he had lungs he would have breathed out a sigh of annoyance as he checked himself in the window of a shop. He was wearing the classic Soul Gatherer uniform, long black robes with a concealing hood and wide sleeves covering his bony frame. Literally. He was a skeleton.

He had tried to reason that he didn't _need_ to wear this stupid robe, but his overseer was of the opinion that he should dress in a way everyone could recognize him. As Death. The thing he wasn't even responsible for…

Grimm shrugged as he checked his agenda one last time, checking his golden pocket watch for the time as he did so. _Alright; time of death, 14.32 hours, robbery gone wrong, male called Callum Foster. Aaaand the time is 14.31._ He heard a scream and a gunshot from a nearby alley. _Ah, right on time, Mister Foster._

He strode into the alley, the terrified man holding a smoking gun didn't see him, no mortal could except for a near-death experience. Something his contract obliged him to be present for every. Single. Time. He would have rolled his eyes if he had any when he saw the body of a young man lying in a pool of his own blood on the floor. Another robber shot because he was a fucking idiot.

He checked his watch again and counted down the seconds in his head while the man with the gun slowly approached the body. _Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one… and he's dead._ The robed skeleton quickly touched the forehead of what had been Callum Foster a few seconds earlier and pulled out the soul.

Said soul started transforming into a glowing, humanoid shape, before turning into the mirror image of the man on the floor. "A- am I dead?" the soul asked, and Grimm skullpalmed. He hated his job, but _someone_ had to do it.

* * *

 **This side-story will tie in with the main story eventually.**

 **Have a great day everyone!**


	6. Chapter 6

**So, yeah… it's not as long as usual, sadly, but it took me long enough to get this written as is. I rewrote this shit like 7 times before it finally went in a direction I'm sorta satisfied with. See, I write in a way where I make shit up as I go, which causes me to sometimes write myself into a corner. Also, it takes me a lot of writing and rewriting before something is halfway worthy of being called a chapter. This combined with college, my lack of motivation for it and general student life have rarely given me time/ the drive to write. It's a filler, but I promise I will try to make the next one so action packed y'all shit yourselves.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy this thing I wrote and have an awesome day/night. And remember: in space, nobody can hear you scream!**

 **Also, review, favorite, follow and all that stuff.**

* * *

~Chapter 6 ~

~Till Death Do Us Part 2~

Grimm looked at the large sign above the doors to the hospital. _St. Thomas' Hospital… yeah, that's the right place._ He quickly stepped aside as two paramedics rushed past him, a stretcher with a young pregnant woman on top of it in between them. He was almost bowled over by the father to be, but luckily, he fazed right through him. Grimm hated having to work during Christmas, but, as they say; Death stops for no one. Not like he had any people to celebrate it with, anyway.

He sighed and followed the paramedics inside, walking to a map on the wall and producing an agenda from his sleeve. He leafed through it until he found the person he was looking for: _Alice Green, St. Thomas' Hospital, second floor, room… 18 B, 12:38 hours_. _Alrighty then._

Creator, did he hate hospitals. He spent way too much time in them for his liking. He missed the middle ages, when there weren't any hospitals around and he could just go door-to-door. Then again there'd been a lot of work with all the plague and war… Yeah, now that he'd thought about it, present time was way better.

The elevator ride up was uneventful. Death incarnate quickly stepped out and started looking for the right room, which took him a little longer than absolutely necessary, as he couldn't simply ask a nurse for directions. He met one of his copies, though, who showed him the way (the other robed skeleton was done with his shift).

He could hear screams coming from the room and looked at his pocket watch. _12:35, I'm three minutes early. Oh well, it happens._ He fazed through the door to see a bed surrounded by doctor and nurses and… the father to be. _Oh, motherfucking shitstained fucking Creator on a fucking unicycle! I thought I'd told the Overseer I didn't want these appointments anymore!_

If he'd had any flesh, his knuckles would have turned white as he clenched his scythe. A minute passed as he saw the energy slowly leaving the woman. _Two more minutes isn't enough for her to give birth._ He knew he couldn't save her, but he wasn't here to take them both away. He quickly grabbed his agenda and looked beneath Alice's name: _Unnamed child, second floor, room 18 B, 12:38, 25-12-2016 hours._ "FUCK!" he yelled in anger.

Apparently, he was… But could he… he couldn't, could he? Maybe, just maybe he could save the child. He quickly procured a pen and did something that in his millennia of existence, he'd never done before. He broke the rules.

 _Alice Green, St. Thomas Hospital, second floor, room 18 B, 12:45 hours, 25-12-2016. 10 minutes should do it._

The ten minutes slowly ticked by as the Soul Gatherer anxiously looked at his pocket watch. The screams only got worse and worse before they finally stopped, to be replaced with the wail of a new-born baby.

Still holding the old leather-bound agenda, Grimm looked to see that the "unnamed child" had disappeared from the page, no doubt it would reappear somewhere in the future. He shook his head and slowly walked over to the side of the bed, where Alice was holding her child with a peaceful, tired smile gracing her lips.

She closed her eyes and her head started slumping. Another look at the pocket watch told Grimm all he needed to know. A quarter to one. Time for her to go.

The bright orb leaving her body floated to the side of the bed, where it transformed into the mirror image of the corpse on the bed. She looked around like a startled deer before confusion set on her face. "Who- who are you? What's going on?"

Reaper put a hand on her back, guiding her to the door, "Let's go outside, shall we? It's awfully depressing here." Before the soul could utter a word, the Gatherer had teleported them both to a nearby park and sat her down on a bench.

"Wh- What's happening? Who are you?!" she looked slightly panicked. _Oh well,_ the two-meter tall skeleton shrugged, _I might as well._

"You, my dear Alice, are dead." He raised a bony hand to stop her from saying anything, "However, I can't bring you to the afterlife. There's been some… complications, caused by me breaking a rule or fifty trying to save your son."

The woman looked baffled, "You saved my baby? B-but you're _Death_!"

"No, I'm not _Death_ , I'm the Reaper. I only help people who've died get to the afterlife. I swear, fucking myths giving me a bad rep. And no, I'm not heartless. Well, I _am_ , but figuratively I'm not."

She only looked more confused at that. "B-but my baby- "

"Listen, I put my non-existent ass on the line for you to save the little stool factory," Alice suddenly seemed to grasp what was happening and, out of nowhere, hugged the two-meter-tall skeleton. "Yeah, yeah, enough of that already." He removed Alice (or her soul, anyway) from the hug and sighed.

"Now, since I cannot bring you to the afterlife or the recycler, I am going to have to do something I had hoped I did not have to do for quite some time."

She looked up at him, fear in her eyes, "W-what are you going to do?"

"I…" he sighed, "I am going to have to call in a favour."

* * *

I shook my head as the elevator doors opened. _What am I even doing?_ I asked myself. I had picked up some random Asari from the lobby, why? Because I found her interesting? Was it something else that pushed me to do it?

My question was answered when the jovial tone of the Interdimensional Deity - _Overseer_ , I quickly reminded myself - greeted me. He was sitting, legs crossed and laid back in one of the uncomfortable designer chairs.

"Mr. Bridger, how nice to see you again! And you brought a friend, I see." The completely forgettable face smiled. I glanced at the door of the closet in which I had locked up the Turian, "Don't worry, your… _other_ friend is still very much unconscious."

I motioned the Asari to take a seat as I took off my jacket, throwing it over one of the chairs. "So, Overseer, what can I do for you today? There's hardly anything you'd have to be here in person for that you couldn't let Threes or me do, right? And shouldn't you be worried _she's_ here?"

He chuckled, "Au contraire, mon ami! I am here because of her, actually. See, I owed a friend of mine a favor in exchange for your life. He got in a bit of a jiffy with the rules, so he decided to cash it in." He was hiding something… Or at least not telling me something.

"So, why's she so special?" I shot a look at the blue space lady. Now, I am no expert on Asari in any way, but she looked rather young. A maiden, I think they called it.

"Why, because she's dead of course!" I shot him an incredulous look, "Listen, all you need to know is that she's from your world and I need her to _not die_ in the first few days that she's here. Say hi to your new roommate; Alice. Oh, and do help her integrate a bit, will you? I'm sure Silent Traveler can forge some documents and create a backstory for her."

My brow raised and eyes widened. "You've got to be _fucking kiddin' me,_ right?! I don't have time to babysit! Let alone help her-"

"Mr. Bridger,"

"-fucking "integrate"! I'm a goddamn intergalactic-"

"Mr. Bridger,"

"-assassin, I have shit to do, people to-"

"MR. BRIDGER!" The Overseer's voice thundered, "you can and you _will_ do what I ask you to do in this case. I have provided you with a new life, equipped you for it, hell, I even came down here to tell you this _personally_. So stop being _childish_ and accept this responsibility!"

" _Fine_ ," I bit back before sending a glare at the interdimensional being, "I'll make sure she doesn't die, but if you don't mind, I've got a certain Turian to interrogate." I stood up and looked at the… what was she, actually? Asari? Human? Whatever.

I looked at Alice and sighed, "Threes will get you situated. Don't bother me for…" I looked at the clock on my omni-tool "Half an hour to an hour from now, depending on how cooperative Mr. Proditor is." With that I left the Overseer and the dead girl in the living room to go attend to my guest.

"Do keep the volume down, Mr. Bridger. The walls are thick, but not _that_ thick." I simply flipped him the bird as I disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Now, I will spare you the gory details, but you can be sure that he didn't crack easily. It took quite a bit of convincing for him to give up the information, but after a bit of plate cracking, sand rubbing, talon breaking, fringe pulling and threatening to break off his spurs, I finally got the information I was looking for.

The question was; how to act on it. I could hardly do it by myself. I mean, I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good. I needed reinforcements. Of the not-quite-criminal kind, to be precise.

That was what brought me to this shady bar in Nos Astra, waiting for a contact I had Threes dig up for me. The Žandameria PMC was a perfectly legal private military company hailing from Eastern Europe- when you looked at the known activities, that is. It was actually one I had worked with in the past (in my own universe, I mean) when we went on less than legal missions with Hades.

It wasn't often that a PMC survived for so long, but Žandameria had somehow survived the creation the Systems Alliance and the first contact with the Turians on Shanxi. It was a purely human company, most of their operatives coming from Eastern Europe or Russia (or colonies mostly populated by people of those ethnicities) and (legally) specialised in protection and security consultancy contracts.

It wasn't the legal side I was interested in, though. No, if that were the case, I wouldn't be waiting for someone to meet me in a shady bar. The part of Žandameria I was trying to hire was the SPARTA Unit; some of their best field operatives, I had been told. Also, the unit technically didn't exist, but with a super AI by your side, everything is possible.

"You must be Hades," A Russian-accented voice said to my right. I nodded, motioning for him to sit down across from me in the booth. He extended his hand for a shake, and after a short hesitation, shook it. He looked about middle aged, although I couldn't tell very easily, as he had quite a few scars.

"That I am." I wasn't wearing my armour, but it didn't matter much. After all, being from another universe brought the perk of not existing with it.

"A little _ptica_ told me you were looking to hire some Spartans to hit some Four-eyes, am I correct?" he said in a conspiratorial tone.

"Yes, that would be correct." I answered.

"Wonderful! Call me Felix, by the way, I forgot to introduce myself." He smiled widely, wrinkles and scars folding into a pleasant mask which I was sure he practiced often.

"Alright, Felix," I tested the name on my tongue, "I assume your team is ready for this contract?"

The man laughed merrily, "Oh my, most certainly, although it isn't _my_ team, per say. I simply represent the company." he turned serious, "Now, to business. You have the payment?"

I opened my omni-tool and transferred half of the credits to the designated account, "Half up front, as agreed upon earlier." Felix nodded and smiled, "Also, there will be a significant bonus if all the cargo remains intact."

"Of course, Mr. Hades. Pleasure doing business with you." He stood up and we shook hands before he left the bar. I finished my drink and went back to the penthouse. Tomorrow I would meet with SPARTA Unit to discuss the plan and then I could finally round up something I had wanted to do since the start of me coming here.

* * *

 _ **[Searching STG databanks…]**_

 _ **[File found, access denied.]**_

 _ **[********* security override code accepted]**_

 _ **[Access granted]**_

 _Žandameria PMC_

 _Founded: 4 May, 1995_

 _Type: military combatant company/military consultancy firm*_

 _Notable contracts (current):  
\- several trainers in the Alliance Marine bootcamps/special forces [Systems Alliance Military]  
\- providing bodyguard services for multiple rich individuals including but not limited to Owen Garett, Maila Becker and Christof Johansson  
\- providing security services to several compounds, warehouses, factories and R&D labs owned by Hahne-Kedar  
\- providing security services to freighters belonging to VolkerWessels Mining&Construction CO.  
\- providing security services to the independent colony of New Lyons in the Turminus Systems_

 _Current manpower (not counting black-ops): 7,432_

 _Combat-trained Contractors: 6,740_

 _Miscellaneous personnel: 708_

 _Motorpool:  
-126 M35 Mako APCs  
-53 Supply vehicles  
-31 UT-47 Kodiak Drop Shuttles  
-7 A-61 Mantis Gunships_

 _Shipyard:  
-1 Medium retrofitted and upgraded freighter  
-2 Small retrofitted and upgraded freighters_

 _The services and expertise offered by Žandarmeria are typically similar to those of governmental security, military or police forces, most often on a smaller scale. While PMCs often provide services to train or supplement official armed forces in service of governments, they can also be employed by private companies to provide bodyguards for key staff or protection of company premises, especially in hostile territories. The PMC first appeared in an official conflict during the Second Chechen War, and has existed ever since._

 _SPARTA**(СПАРТА) as described by_ _Žandameria_ _CEO Leonid Tarkov:_

" _A unit composed by the most battle efficient and f*cked up "security contractors" employed by the Žandameria PMC… The unit has a history of operating in The Second Chechen War, The War of Dagestan, the whole business in the Middle East and even Shanxi and the Terminus."_

 _Sparta Unit's Members***:_

 _-Artyom [REDACTED] (Leader)  
-Vladimir [REDACTED] (Demolitions expert)  
-Ivan [REDACTED] (CQC)  
-Pyotr [REDACTED] (Support)  
-Pavel [REDACTED] (Engineer)  
-Eric [REDACTED] (Marksman)  
-Khan [REDACTED] (?)  
-Syga [REDACTED] (Linguist)  
-Vadim [REDACTED] (Rifleman)_

 _*provides combat ready contractors for field work and personal security, as well as training and advisory services.  
**The SPARTA Unit has been deemed useful as an alternative to sending our own operatives in for wet work. Therefore, all actions to be taken against SPARTA Unit must be cleared by authorities of clearance level 12 or higher.  
***Current SPARTA roster is not up to date and is under revision. Further information on SPARTA members can be found in the attached files._

 _ **[Closing file…]**_


End file.
